His & Her Circumstances
by VanillaLime
Summary: What if Lisa and Jackson knew each other before the Red Eye flight? This is a story about two perfectionists at the same high school and what happens as they fall for one another. What causes Jackson to choose another path? Leads up to Red Eye flight.
1. Her Rival

_Disclaimer:_ I do not own Red Eye or Kare Kano: His & Her Circumstances

_Summary:_ What if Lisa and Jackson knew each other before the Red Eye flight? This is a story about two perfectionists going to the same high school and what happens as they fall for each other. What events cause Jackson to choose another path? All this leads up to that fateful day of the flight.

_A/N:_ This is a crazy story really. It follows the storyline of the manga series Kare Kano: His & Her Circumstances by Masami Tsuda, although there are many evident differences in this story. But, if you have read the series, chances are you may know what happens next. This story starts out as Lisa's POV, and the POV will change from time to time.

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**His & Her Circumstances**

Chapter 1

'_I wonder how others see me?'_

"Hey Lisa!" waves a girl right in front of me. "You're going to teach us that cheer today, right?"

I catch up with her and we walk side by side in the bustling halls. "Of course I am. I hope you guys like it."

"Oh I know we'll like it!" She turns her attention away from me and stops for a faint moment, spotting a friend straight ahead.

"Claire!" the girl calls out from afar. She looks at me, and a smile forms on her freckled face. I know exactly what she is going to ask. I return her smile as she skips her way towards us. "Lisa, I'm so glad I found you!"

Here it comes…

"I had some trouble with my math homework. Can you help me with it?"

There it is. As I answer her, out of nowhere comes another student.

"Lisa, I need some help too!" She must have been listening from behind. Other girls show up all of the sudden, and before I know it, I've arranged a whole study group scheduled during lunch.

"Lisa, you're so perfect," comments one girl.

Another adds to this. "Oh I know! You're the most athletic and you always get good grades! How do you do it?"

'_So that's how others see me.'_

I laugh, making myself seem embarrassed. "Anybody could do it if they work hard enough."

They all giggle to this. "It's not as easy as you make it out to be. Man, I wish my life was like yours."

Pfft. Easy? My life ain't easy. I just work my butt off so it appears that way. I was born a people-pleaser and I feed on the admiration of my peers. Egotistical my family calls me. Well that I am! The feeling of being a winner is the most wonderful feeling in the world. Nothing is better than people praising you, _nothing_. I was always at the top of the class—always first. But once I entered high school, everything changed.

It was during the presidential campaign. That was when I first saw him. As I locked eyes with him I could not help but think he was handsome. He smiled pleasantly at me saying, "I'm Jackson St. Clair. Nice to meet you." I smiled back and introduced myself, secretly noting that he didn't stand a chance against me. Yes, he was also competing for the title as class president and I simply dismissed him, labeling him as just another pretty face. He definitely lacked the intelligence that I had, I was sure of it. But boy was I wrong.

We sat next to each other, seated on the stage, the muggy air causing beads of sweat dripping down the kids' foreheads. I glanced at my competitor, taking in his calm features. He could sense my eyes on him, and he turned to me, whispering "good luck" in my ear. _'Ha, good luck! You're gonna need all the luck in the world in order to beat me!'_ I smiled smugly to myself as the boy in front began announcing the results of the election.

"And our president for sophomore year is…Jackson St. Clair!"

'_WHAT!' _I could not help but gape as the boy sitting beside me gets up and takes the microphone. He started to talk, but I didn't hear him. All I could think of was how on earth he could've defeated me. Me of all people! I was utterly horrified. Fourteen years old and I've never faced such humiliation. I wanted to hit that pretty face of his! Smash it to the ground!

It was at that moment that I developed a goal. And that goal was to defeat Jackson at all cost.

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It's 3:15 PM. Two girls dash up the stairs, flying through the halls. They immediately halt, the lack of friction on the hardwood floor causing their socks to skid. They found what they've been searching for. The one with the short brown hair plunks her backpack on the floor, the other already entering the bedroom.

"There you are!" says the younger, her auburn locks bunching up at her shoulders. She stops for a moment and narrows her green eyes. "You're wearing that again? You wore that the last time we came here!"

I spin myself around on my chair. "Well I got a lot of pairs, so what?"

I can hear the laughter of her sister. "_So_ you wear that every time we're here." She decided to join in and I stare back at her with a hard face. She's a year younger than I am, but she's already grown to be my height.

"It's comfortable."

This was their queue to burst out with laughter. I decide to ignore them, going back to the computer and tapping my fingers against the keyboard.

The one with the long brown hair is my cousin, Abby. And the one next to her, the one with the short hair, well that's her sister Kirsten. Do you see the one typing away at the computer? The one with the glasses wearing the striped pajama pants and a baggy tee? Well that's me. And yes it's true. I'm not really the goddess everyone at school thinks I am. I'm a total fraud and my family is the only one that knows it. Let's just say it's my little secret.

I mean, can you even imagine if any of the kids found out? My reputation would be done for! All my life I've struggled to create this perfect image of myself. It's my mask. I put it on when I go to school, and take it off when I leave. Yeah, it's sometimes a pain to do this, but it's all worth it when everybody is kneeling at your feet.

"So you must be wondering why we're here." Kirsten breaks my train of thought.

"Why wonder? You're like here almost every other day."

"True. But that's not the point! We're going to the movies after school on Friday and we want you to come."

I turn around, looking up at the two girls who were all smiles. "I'm sorry. I just can't go. I've got homework."

"What!" gasps Abby. "But it's on Friday! Who does homework on a Friday night?"

"I do."

"You're crazy. Give yourself a break for once." She and Kirsten do their infamous puppy-dog pout. "You never hang out with us anymore," they whine.

I try to resist their desperate stares. I sigh heavily, turning my back on them. "You don't understand. I have a project to work on that day. Now let me be. I have to study for a test now. This test is huge and I have to get the best score."

"Why do have to be so perfect?" says Abby.

Kirsten adds to this. "Seriously! Every time I see you in the hall, you greet me with 'Hello Kirsten, how are you?'" Kirsten voice goes into a high soothing tone as she demonstrates this. "And then you have this big smile and walk on in the most peaceful manner. It's so scary. Sometimes I find it hard to believe that girl that just spoke to me is you. It's like you're a different person."

"Come on," nags Abby. "Just come with us. Give yourself a break for once. It's only a few hours."

"No. I already said I can't." I'm growing quite irritated. "Now if you don't mind I have to study so that I can get the best test grade. So I can…"

"Beat that Jackson kid?"

"Yes! I can't lose to him!" I suddenly find myself standing up off my seat, my fist clenched in the air.

"Hey girls." A man peaks his head out of the doorway. His hair is of a reddish brown and on his nose rests a pair of golden spectacles. That man right there is my dad, Joe Reisert. "What are you up to?"

Abby is the first to complain. She turns to face my father and folds her hands, giving off her little angel impression. I hate it when she does that! She looks completely innocent, her expression as sweet as can be. "Lisa won't go with us to the movies," she sulks. "She's too busy trying to beat that Jackson kid."

"Jackson kid? What Jackson kid?"

"Jackson St. Clair," I growl.

"The one who beat her in the presidential campaign last spring," Kirsten chimes in.

I want to say, "Yes Kirsten. Thanks for reminding us," but I refrain, keeping my cool.

"St. Clair…St. Clair." My dad repeats Jackson's last name to himself, digging the name out of the depths of his memory. "Oh, St. Clair! Isn't that…"

"A name of a hospital?" I say, finishing his sentence. "Why yes, St. Clair hospital. And yes, Jackson St. Clair is related to the owners of that hospital." I find my voice rising as I say this.

My dad doesn't seem to notice that I'm miffed. "Man," he continues. "He must be stinkin' rich."

"Oh yes," says Kirsten. "Very."

"Okay, why don't you take this lovely conversation outside, eh?" I literally push them out of my room and shut the door behind them. "Finally," I whisper to myself. I go back and seat myself in front of the computer. I can't help but wonder what movie my cousins are seeing. What kind of genre is it? Is it supposed to be good? Quite flustered, I push it out of my mind and focus on studying. _I will defeat you Jackson. I will not be brought down so easily. Just you wait. _

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_A/N: _Well tell me what you think! I know I know, Lisa seems a bit weird character-wise (Okay, _a lot_ weird), as well as Jackson, but this is before that parking lot incident and Jackson's crazy side. Hopefully their characters will come in place later in the story. 

Oh, and I wrote another Red Eye story a year ago but never finished. Sorry, but I lost my inspiration for it. I really don't think I'm gonna finish it. Well, at least it ended in a good spot:/


	2. Stop Being My Shadow

A/N: What is this? Updating after 4 years? These files were just sitting in my old computer and I just decided that the story needed to be finished. I apologize if the writing is poor, I wrote it back in high school. Thanks to seeing Phantom of the Opera again, I went back to this site and got re-obsessed with Red Eye again. I am very surprised there is still some sort of fandom here!

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**His & Her Circumstances**

_Chapter 2_

I look at my watch. '7:00' it reads. "Great, now I'll have a half hour to study before school starts." I pull open the door and one of my teachers greets me with a "Good morning Lisa. You're here early."

I decide to flatter the teacher. "Oh I know. But I can use the time to study for that big test we have today."

She pushes her spectacles back on the bridge of her nose and lets out a warm smile. "My my. You certainly are a hard worker. Your parents must be proud."

"I should hope so," I say under light laughter. "Well I'm off to go study. I look forward to your class today."

"Well I look forward to seeing you in my class today. Good luck with that test."

"Thank you Mrs. Lee." I give her one more angelic smile and then I walk away, my smile quickly transforming into an evil grin. How easy teachers are to manipulate! I make my way down the empty halls and up two flights of stairs to finally arrive at my destination. I look through the window to find that the lights are on, but Mr. Anderson is not at his seat.

"This door better not be locked," I say to myself as I reach for the doorknob. Lucky for me, the door opens and I enter the classroom.

"Hello Lisa."

I gasp and look towards the direction where the voice came from. A boy is there, seated at a desk by the window. He has brown bangs extending just below his eyebrows, parting at the middle. His sharp jawline is softened by starry eyes of sapphire blue, that watch me like a cat.

"Did I scare you?"

I laugh. "A little, I guess."

Oh, did I mention that Jackson's in my classes too? That's right. Every one of my core classes. How I suffer! This is the last person I want to see in the morning! Nonetheless, I'm gonna keep smiling, even if it kills me.

"Well you're up early Jackson."

"I should say the same." He scratches his head for a moment, an awkward smile forming on his lips. "So…Are you ready for the test?"

Oh you bet I'm ready for that test! I've been studying all weekend. And tomorrow, when the highest test grades will be pasted on the wall for all the world to see, it will be my name written at the top in all its glory. I'll be number one and you will be drowning in your misery of defeat! "I do hope I'm ready for the test. Are you?"

"I guess. I studied, but still."

"Oh I'm sure you'll do fine."

He smiles at this statement and decides to return the comment. "You'll do good too. You're really smart." We both beam pleasantly at each other.

You're such a fool Jackson. That smile plastered on your face is the last thing you'll see before I'll send you straight to hell!

: :

My exam ended two blocks ago and I finally am lifted of the burden. Actually, I think I did quite well. Jackson is going down for sure. I can't wait to see that look on his face when I take the top spot!

Right now it is the last block, study hall, and I am working on a math problem. Because of the level of difficulty, Miss Seers decided to make it extra credit. A lot of kids are failing in that class, so right now practically everyone is struggling to get those extra points.

My fingers click against the buttons of the calculator. With a push of the equal sign, I finally arrive at the answer. But so does someone else.

"Oh Jackson, did you get the answer?" says the girl with the over-teased hair. Her skirt is far too high as well as those platform shoes of hers.

"Just got it," replies Jackson.

Others hear and they start to huddle around him, pestering him on how he came up with the conclusion.

"Damn you Jackson," I say under my breath. Those people were supposed to be around me. _I_ want to be the center of attention. Why do you have to be here, ruining my glory? I was the one who used to stand out from the crowd. People turned heads when I passed by. But now I am nothing more than everyday rubble. It is you who stands out now. Your brown hair that falls neatly over your eyes is a breath of fresh air compared to the buzz cuts and short hair of the boys. Those penetrating blue eyes and winning smile you own can't help but gain attention from the girls. And how you just seem to be perfect at everything makes you at the top of the league—my rival. I hate you Jackson. I hate you so much it's like an obsession. Oh how I wish tomorrow will come. All my pain will finally pay off when I will take your place, the spot I most rightfully deserve.

My thoughts are interrupted by the ringing of the bell. School is out, which can only mean that it's time for cheerleading practice. I stuff my notebook into my bag and head out to the gymnasium. None of my team greets me there, for I am the first one to arrive. Unfortunately, for some crazy reason Jackson's here as well, bouncing a basketball back and forth between his hands.

"Oh, Jackson. What a surprise. What are you doing here?"

"I'm just gonna be playing a game of basketball with some guys, that's all." He shoots for the basket and makes it in.

"Wow, you're pretty good," I say, making it sound like I care—which I don't. "Are you trying out for the team?"

"Nah."

'_Yes!' _"How come? You'd be really good."

"I don't know. Maybe I might reconsider."

'_No, don't do that! Stupid me, I'm encouraging him!' _I hear the creaking of the door and there they are, my team, chattering away.

"Hey girl!" one calls out to me.

"You girls ready for practice?" I ask.

They all drop their bags and comes towards me. "You bet!"

"Okay, I have a new move to show you."

"Hold on Lisa." They turn their heads, their attention focused on the boys starting a game of basketball. "Oh. My. God." Margie says. "He's so fly!"

"You mean Jackson?" questions Lindsay, the one with the ponytail. She sort of reminds me of a giraffe. "He's such a hottie!"

Suddenly our cheering practice turns into an "I Love Jackson" meeting, where our precious time is spent swooning over Jackson every time he gets the ball into that hoop. And let me tell ya, he constantly makes that basket.

"He's so hard to get," says one girl. "So many girls asked to go out with him, but he turned them all down."

"Whelp, I guess our chances are pretty slim, huh?" They all start to giggle, and I am left to tear at the plastic strands of my pom-poms.

"Uh, guys…"

They squeal in delight. "Look at him run, look at him run!" Jackson dribbles across the court, while the other boys try to guard his path. He is too swift for them though. He soars through them, his hair flying with the wind. _Swoosh! _goes the ball in the basket. The girls all cheer for him and he glances at us. His eyes find me and a smile stretches across his face. I look away in utter disgust. _'Curse you Jackson…'_

Could the minutes go by any slower? This is like torture, having to watch Mr. High and Mighty like this. Go away Jackson. Find somewhere else to play! Why does my team have to be so air-headed?

Finally, it's towards the end of practice. We haven't accomplished anything really. We practiced a few steps, but that's about it. I change out of my uniform and push open the door, leaving the girls in the locker room to gossip all they want.

The blue sky welcomes me as I exit the school building. It is such a relief to get out of there! Today was a horrible day, with Jackson seeming to be at every corner. Wait a second…Speak of the devil!

I pretend I don't notice and I strut past him. He catches my arm.

"Lisa."

I spin around. "Oh Jackson! Where'd you come from? Are you done playing basketball?"

"Yup." He pauses, his eyes scanning the sidewalk behind me. "You walking home?"

'_Quick Lisa, think.' _Too late. My mouth answers for me. "Yeah."

"So are you heading this way?"

"Uh-huh." I start moving, hoping he'll stop with the talking.

He catches up with me. "I'm going this way too. Can I?"

'_God! Must you torment me so?'_ "Oh yeah, sure." His face suddenly perks up and we walk side by side. After a few seconds of awkward silence, we both stare in different directions: his eyes on the road and mine watching the houses pass by. A sports car whooshes past us; its radio booming out of the windows.

"So…What kind of music do you listen to?"

"Oh I prefer classical music," I reply. "It's perfectly structured, and I enjoy studying it." '_Really I like classic rock. The Eagles, The Whos, Rolling Stones—you can't go wrong with that!' _

"Oh really?" He ponders on this for a bit, then says, "I think I have a CD at home you'll like. I'll bring it over sometime."

'_You got to be kidding me. This geek actually listens to that junk!'_ "Oh that would be great."

"Good." His eyes fix on me, and I can't quite put a finger on it, but his eyes seem to be pleading for something—a hidden angst. As fast as that thought enters my mind I dismiss it, turning from his gaze and watching the cracks pass under my feet. We walk on and I can see the brown shingles of my roof. I quicken my pace, careful to make sure it isn't too apparent, and arrive at my destination. A silent smile crosses my lips, for I will finally be released of Jackson's horrid presence.

"Well this is it," I say as I stop in front of the brick pathway. "Thanks for the walk home."

He seemed a bit down for a second there, but he immediately lightens up. "My pleasure. I'll see you at school then."

'_Unfortunately.' _"Yup, see you tomorrow." I turn my back on him and go up the path and into the entranceway, eager to find the keys to the house. I couldn't wait to leave the stench of this day behind me.

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A/N: Again, sorry for the out-of-characterness! I promise their characters will seem more realistic in the coming chapters (hopefully). And I did get my hands on a list of 90's slang, in case you noticed the weird expressions. Thanks for reading!


	3. Bittersweet Victory

**His & Her Circumstances**

_Chapter 3_

"I can't believe this is happening!" I grab my clothes off the racks and clutch them against my chest. As I pass the alarm clock I have the sudden urge to throw it against the wall, but I control myself, remembering that it was my fault in the first place for forgetting to set the alarm.

"Thanks a lot Dad!" I holler down the stairs.

He comes into view and looks at me in bewilderment. "What's your problem?"

"You didn't wake me up!"

"It's 6:40. You have plenty of time to get ready."

I grunt and walk away, seeing that my father just doesn't get it. Does he know how long it takes to get ready? I think not! I grumble to myself all the way to the bathroom and put on my contacts before hastily jumping into the shower.

By the time I'm done drying my hair, putting on my clothes, and getting my backpack together, it is 7:05. I race for the door, but my mother stops me.

"Don't tell me you're leaving without any breakfast." She says this with her hands crossed and a reprimanding stare. I have learned from many years of experience not to get on Gloria Reisert's bad side.

"Oh yeah…" I say, avoiding her eyes. "I'll go and—"

"Here." She hands me a waffle and I give her a thankful smile. "Your father said you were running late. You can eat this on your way to school. Now don't just stand there, get going now!" She waves me out the door and I can't help but feel grateful for her thoughtfulness.

Fifteen minutes until school starts. I burst through the doors and a herd of students greets me. They are all trying to see what grade they received from the exams.

"Excuse me," I mutter as I push my way through the crowd. I can see the white sheet of paper coming into view. Holding my breath, I search for my name.

#5 David Burns, #4 Linda Nguyen, #3 Jennifer Sanders…

#2 Jackson St. Clair

#1 Lisa Reisert

I am stricken with awe. I stand there with my mouth wide open trying to believe it. Is that my name up there? Yes it is! I'm number one! Me! I actually defeated Jackson! In my head I am doing a little victory dance, while on the outside I am refined and composed.

"Wow," says the girl beside me. "You got the top grade! That's amazing!"

Oh it's been so long since I heard such sweet words. This feeling—it's so wonderful I just can't explain it…It's as if I'm on top of the world!

"You even beat Jackson. I thought that was impossible!" says another student.

Ah yes, where did that loser run off to? As I scan the crowd, I can see his mass of chestnut brown hair coming towards me. That's right. Show me your face, you pitiful fool! I want to see the envy in those eyes of yours—your lips frowning from utter disappointment. Your time in the spotlight has ended and mine has just begun!

"Congrats, Lisa. You really are smart."

'_Wait…What_?' Jackson gives me a wide smile, his eyes bright and merry. This isn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to be embarrassed—secretly curse under his breath! What's up with the compliment? I don't get this at all!

Maybe…maybe I was the only one who actually cared about getting the best grade. That must be it. He doesn't care who's first at all. Oh god, why do I suddenly feel so stupid? He's the real thing, and I'm just a fake. What do they call that? Oh yes, a hypocrite. That's right, Lisa the hypocrite!

How pathetic.

: :

An overwhelming sense of relief comes over me as the bell rings. Finally school's out! I scurry through the halls, trying to get to the gym for cheerleading practice. Now all I have to do is avoid Jackson for a few more—Ow!

"Oh sorry Lisa. I didn't see you."

Why! I made it through the entire day without communicating with Jackson and now he's here? I'm too ashamed to face him now. Run, run away Lisa! With my head bent low I go past him acting like I had never bumped into him.

"Wait a sec Lisa." He swiftly grabs my shoulder. "There's something I need to tell you."

: :

"Ha ha! The smell of victory is great indeed!"

"So let me get this straight," says Kirsten, popping a malted milk ball into mouth. "Jackson asked you out, and you blew him off?"

"Damn right I did!"

Abby scrunches up her face. "I don't get it. What's so great about that? Isn't he one of the hottest guys in school?"

"Tsk tsk tsk. Do you not understand anything little cousin?" I say, patting her head. She backs away in annoyance. "It's obvious that Jackson's in love with me. I've got him wrapped around my finger! The one who's loved has all the power you see? I won!"

"Still don't get it."

Kirsten sits beside me switching countless stations, none of them seeming to appeal to her. "Stupid mistake Lisa."

"What do you mean stupid mistake?"

She sighs, finally content with a show. "You just don't get it."

"What are you—"

"Oh snap!" Abby jumps out of the sofa. "What time is it? We're gonna be late!"

"Yeah, you guys better be going. Don't forget to bring an umbrella. It's gonna rain pretty heavy tonight."

Kirsten grabs her money. "Okay Abby, let's dip. Are you sure you don't wanna come Lisa?"

"I already told you that I didn't want to go!"

"Okay okay! You don't have to wig out on me. See ya." She shuts the door and I am finally at peace. I decide to have a half an hour of down time before actually working on the project. The show Kirsten left the TV on is a bunch of garbage, so I reach for the remote and change the channel.

_Ding-dong_! chimes the doorbell.

"I wonder if they forgot something." I pull myself away from the couch and head to the foyer. Two umbrellas rest there, waiting for their owners. "Wow, I just told them to bring these! They must be picking them up." I grab the two umbrellas and head to the door.

"Forget these!" I shout, jutting the two umbrellas out like a sword.

"Oomph!"

'_Oh no…' _Here I am, glasses and all, standing right in front of Jackson, the tips of the umbrellas jabbing his stomach. Could I possibly look any worse? Chocolate is smeared across my oversized t-shirt as a pineapple-style ponytail adorns my head. To top it all off, I am wearing my elastic-waistband sweatpants.

His face holds an expression of utter astonishment. "Uh…Here…that CD I, err, said I would bring…" He tries hard to be polite, but deep down I know he is completely shocked—perhaps even hurt seeing how the lovely Lisa Reisert _really_ is. I was the first girl to give him a real shock.

I can't help but laugh!

: :

_'You know my secret Jackson.'_

As I walk, I can see his figure coming closer, a group of boys hovering around him. I start to slow down, realizing that they are blocking the entrance to the school.

_'What will you do? Will you pretend it never happened? Will you tell everyone—make me the laughing stock of the whole school? Or will you act like you don't care, while secretly you pity me?' _Of all people, Jackson had to be the one who discovered my secret. Argh! Just thinking about it makes me want to smash my head up against a wall! I keep looking ahead while the boys murmur in the background. I listen, trying to see if they're talking about me, but instead they're blabbing on about cars.

Perhaps Jackson didn't tell anyone after all. Curiosity gets the best of me and I look back, meeting Jackson's eyes. He gives me a smug-like smirk, a sort of smirk I've never seen before on him. He almost seems cocky, like he has some hidden plan stored in the back of his mind. Oh no…He _is_ gonna fink on me!

For the remainder of the week I go about cowering Jackson, ready for my secret to be revealed to the entire school. I expect hidden stares—girls whispering in their friends' ears about the new gossip they'd just heard. But a week passed by, and then another, and nothing happens.

He must be letting me off the hook! He's a nice guy, why wouldn't he do that? Finally the weight on my shoulders is off, and I can breathe again. I can see no shark circling anymore. I happily skip down the empty hall, ready to return a book from the library. "Na, na, na, na…Can't touch this!" I sing out loud, aware that no one can hear me. I turn around a corner, the library coming into focus.

"Your mask is slipping."

"WHA!" The hair on my neck immediately stands up. I swing around and find Jackson's face right in front of mine.

"Did I startle you?" He says this in a sly tone, and I suddenly realize that nothing good will come out of this. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to _surprise_ you." He wraps his hand around my chin and pulls my face closer to his. "Just like that day I didn't mean _surprise_ you and _see_ what you didn't _want_ me to."

My chin drops.

"That's right Leese. That's exactly how I felt." His eyes are suddenly icy pools of blue. "Who would've guessed that sweet n' innocent little Lisa was a _fake_?" His hand drops away and I just stand there frozen stiff. "I wonder what the others will think when they find out? Maybe they won't care. _Or_ maybe they'll be shocked and look at you with such hate and disgust that everywhere you turn there'll be the unsettling whispers of how you betrayed them. But, then again..."

That face of his…It's so twisted—like that of a hungry demon awaiting his prey. Stop looking at him. Just turn away.

He clicks his tongue as he reaches for the sleeve of my shirt. "So I take it that you don't care whether that little secret of yours is revealed?"

I can't stand it! I've spent too many years building up my secret identity to let it out now. "Don't you dare tell anyone," I growl through gritted teeth.

"Well…" He taps his chin. "Okay."

"Really!"

"Yeah sure." Several sheets of paper are shoved into my hands. "But would you be so kind to take care of these? Peachy." He gives me a wink and walks away, while I just stare at the paper in my hands. _'What's this?' _The first sheet reads Assignment 2.3. _'That's our homework for today. Then that means…' _Realization suddenly hits me. _He's blackmailing me_. Jackson, blackmailing me? Who the hell does this guy think he is! Ah, a great misjudgment indeed. Who knew Mr. Goody-Goody has a bad side. This is definitely not the Jackson I know.

* * *

A/N: Finally Jackson's true colors show! I was getting sick of the good boy, it's just no fun. In case you were wondering where I was going with this crossover, it is at this point of Kare Kano where I thought up of the idea, seeing that like in the movie, Jackson seems nice but later reveals another side to him. Thanks for reading:D


	4. His Slave

A/N: I just wanna say, THANKS SO MUCH FOR THE REVIEWS! They make me really happy:D

* * *

**His & Her Circumstances**

_Chapter 4_

"There's a lot of symbolism in this book," Mrs. Lee drones on. "In fact, there is an evident symbol in this chapter." She then picks up her head and scans around the room for her victim while we cower behind our books. "Ah, Jackson. Do you know what it is?"

Right on queue, Jackson spits out the answer. "When the wine cask broke. It symbolizes the villagers' hunger both physically and mentally. Also, the red wine symbolizes blood. It sort of foreshadows the scenes to come with the revolution."

"Very good! You sure got a handle on this book, that's for certain," she praises.

Jackson gives out a faint laugh. "I try."

Mrs. Lee passes him one more grand smile and goes straight back to her lecturing. Without even realizing it, I have my back turned and I am staring at him. He senses the stare and looks up from the book, giving me a sort of grin that makes me cringe. I'm not stupid! I know exactly what that grin means. It says, "You are under my command now." That's right, I am Jackson's slave. Oh joy. Who would've thought I would stoop so low. Right now all he is making me do is his homework. But this is just the beginning. Who knows what foolish antics he'll put me through!

"Lisa."

I can see it now. I'll be serving him drinks, buying him food. He might even force me to do his friends' homework. Ack! What a thought indeed!

"Lisa Reisert!"

My head suddenly jolts up. "Huh?"

"Daydreaming are we?"

An apologetic smile forces its way onto my lips.

She sighs and repeats the question. "Who are the owners of the wine shop?"

"Madame Defarge and Monsieur Defarge," I say a matter-of-factly, hoping to compensate for my lack of attention. It seems to work. She nods, and goes back to boring us again. But that doesn't cover for the embarrassment I'm feeling right now. Stupid Jackson. If I wasn't thinking about him so much, I wouldn't have been put through such a situation. My reputation is going down the drain!

With this inquiry in my mind, I shove Jackson out of the way and focus on my schoolwork. Everything was going well—until lunch started.

"There you are Lisa!" I suddenly feel an arm snaking its way behind my neck, the hand resting on my shoulder. "You're not trying to hide from me are you?"

"No, of course not!" I push Jackson's arm off of me, flustered with the sudden closeness. "It's a nice day. I thought it would be nice to eat outside."

"Uh-huh." By the tone of his voice, I can tell he doesn't believe me. "Well did you finish the work I gave you?"

I fling the papers at him. "Here!"

"Now now Lisa, that's no way to behave."

"What do you expect! You're blackmailing me!"

"I wouldn't call it blackmailing," he says as he flips through the sheets.

"Oh it's blackmailing alright!"

"Okay, maybe it is. So what?"

"So I'm a girl. Are you supposed to treat a girl this way?" I try to conjure up one of Abby's famous angelic faces, but it fails. He simply laughs at me.

"That cute stuff won't work on me."

Infuriated, I moan and start to march away.

"I'll be meeting you after school!" he shouts out. "We need to go over a few things!"

Although I hear him, I choose to ignore him, hiding amongst the trees. I got to find a way to escape this kid.

My escape plan is not going to work out. He's here, sitting by the bleachers, watching my every move. Of course, my teammates are watching his every move as well. Great, another distraction, just what we need before the big game. Yeah so cheerleading practice goes on with girls swooning and the annoying kid looking and I can't help but be furious. Furious is a mood I have come to know pretty well by now. It'd be nice to have a new emotion for a change. But with Jackson on the prowl, I don't think that'll happen too soon.

"Good job out there," he says after I return from the locker room.

I grumble something inaudible.

"Let's get out of here before those girls get out, eh?" He leads me out into the school entrance and we start to head home. While we walk, he's giving me some more homework and certain instructions I decide to dismiss. I don't argue with him though. I'm far too tired for that. Plus it's almost five. I'm starting to get hungry.

Jackson comes to a stop. "Oh I forgot."

"Forgot what?"

"To get a book to read for history."

"That's not my problem."

"Yes it is. Stop walking."

Like a dog I halt. "What, you wanna pick something out of the library?"

"It's closed. I guess we'll have to get one from Barnes & Noble."

"_We'll_?" Too late. He's got my hand and now we're heading for the bus stop on the side. We wait there for about ten minutes, and during that time I sneak peaks at Jackson. He really is handsome, I admit. He has style, with his snug jeans and T-shirt. Some band name is written on it, but I've never heard of them. He must've been lying when he said he liked classical music. He probably got that CD from his mother, I'm sure of it.

The bus arrives and we hop in, Jackson willing to pay for me. I give him a thanks and we look for an unoccupied seat. There's a slight problem though. The bus is packed full of people and there's only two seats left, one in the front as well as the back.

Jackson immediately goes to the seat in the front. It's one of those seats stationed against the bus wall. "Well, sit down," he says.

"Where? There's no place to sit."

He pats his lap.

"Are you kidding me?"

His response is an evil grin.

"No, I'll just stand."

"Look over there Leese. You see that kid? She's from our school and I'd be happy to tell her about our lovely Lisa."

He's got me. With clenched teeth I sit awkwardly on his knee. His arms embrace me, making sure I won't fly out of the seat from sudden stops.

"I can't believe you did that." He says this more to himself than to me, so I don't reply back. I just sit quietly, looking down at my feet. I don't know what it is, but I have a bubbly feeling in the pit of my stomach. Could it be that old expression 'butterflies in your stomach?' My cheeks suddenly go hot. I can't actually be enjoying this closeness with my arch nemesis! But, for some reason, his arms around me feel so comforting—so warm and safe. Wonderful. Just wonderful. No way am I falling for Jackson!

The bus slows down until it comes to a complete stop. "This is it," he says.

I clamber off his lap and we exit the bus. I'm still blushing from the whole incident. He notices, but decides to lay off on the nasty comments. We stroll past a phone booth, which suddenly reminds him that I have a family to go home to.

"Do you need to tell your parents where you are?"

"Nah," I say as I kick an empty can. "They probably think I'm doing something important at school."

"Ah, I see. Same here."

That's right. We're both model students, the sort of kids that never do anything wrong. No one ever worries about us slipping up. We're definitely not your average teenagers. All of the sudden I find we both share a lot in common.

In Barnes & Noble we head right to the history section and Jackson starts going through the titles of the books. Nothing seems to catch his attention though. They're either too long or too short; too small a print or not an interesting subject at all.

"What book did you choose?" he asks me.

"Some biography on John Adams."

"Sounds boring."

"It is."

He's spots another book. Picks it up. "Why did you choose it then?"

"It looked like a challenge. Teachers love a challenge."

A laugh escapes from his mouth, but he soon traps it in, putting yet another book back into the shelf. Ten minutes fly by and no success.

"Will you hurry up!" I'm growing impatient. It's probably half past six and my stomach is growling.

"Well maybe I would get this done faster if you actually help."

I reach for the closest book and throw it at him, which he catches. "Read this."

He turns the book to its back, reading the summary. "Okay. This looks good."

What? He actually likes the book? Man, if I did that sooner this would've been over with! Whatever. What's done is done. I just want to get home.

After Jackson pays for the book we go outside and the smell of fries greet us. There's a Wendy's just a few blocks down and I desperately want a burger. Jackson seems to be reading my mind, for he says, "How 'bout something to eat?"

Wendy's definitely beats my mother's casserole, but of course, I can't give into Jackson so easily. "I got to get home."

"Why? Something important tonight?"

"Perhaps."

"Well it's gonna have to wait. We're going."

God, Jackson's assertive. I never recalled him being the pushy type. I place my feet stubbornly on the ground refusing to go any further. No one bosses Lisa Reisert around!

He suddenly realizes that I'm not following him. He looks back, frowns, then chuckles. "Lisa, aren't you coming?"

I give him a hateful glare.

He walks back towards me. "Sorry," he whispers, his eyes sparkling in the sunlight. "It won't take long. Aren't you hungry?"

"I guess…"

"Then let's go. I'll pay for you."

"You don't have to do that."

"Oh really?" He smirks. "How much money do you have on you?"

I dig into my pockets and remember I spent my last dollars at lunch. "None."

"Exactly. Now come on," he coaxes, "Let's go."

My feet give in before I can make a solid decision. I guess they were just following my inner want. Jackson and I walk side by side, following the scent trail of Wendy's fries as we part the sea of sea gulls. There is a new feeling inside me I just can't put a finger on, but I don't dwell on it for very long. My only focus right now is satisfying my whining stomach.


	5. An Invitation

****A/N: Okay, well this is embarrassing...I haven't posted in months although I already have the chapters at hand. I'm sorry, finals got me, then graduation, an internship...life in general I guess. I will update more regularly now! And thank you for your support! Oh, and IseeButterfly, no you are not dumb haha. I feel the same way! But in the manga, the character is so obsessed with her image, she thinks that people expect her to be perfect and the male character can see this and uses it against her. A little dramatic, but that's how it goes downXD

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**His & Her Circumstances**

_Chapter 5_

I catch myself staring at Jackson again. His eyes are downcast, the brims of his eyelashes slightly quivering as he reads his book. A strand of his hair runs astray and so he flicks his head to put it back in its place. Feeling my gaze on him, he looks up and points with his eyes to the homework in front of me, hinting that I should finish the job. My expression immediately sours and I slam my hands on the table. But he doesn't approve of this form of protest, and his features suddenly harden. I find it hard to go against him when looks like this, and so I surrender and flip to the backside of the page.

Lately my body's been betraying my mind. And every time it does, I have the urge to slap myself as punishment. Why can't I control myself? Every touch from his fingers sends an electric shock coursing through my body, and with every genuine smile that crosses his lips I can feel my cheeks flush. And this horrible habit of looking at him! It's as if my eyes have a mind of their own and before I know it, I'm staring at my rival—not with contempt, but…No, I cannot let this go on any farther. Lisa Reisert will never like Jackson St. Clair. It is a pairing never meant to be!

"What problem are you on?"

I am suddenly jolted out of my reveries. "Huh?" I blink a couple of times before looking down on the blank sheet in front of me. "Um, I'm getting there."

He rises from his seat and snatches the paper, shaking his head once he sees the lack of answers on the page. "Get your head out of the clouds, Leese. I don't have all the time in the world. I need this done now." He throws it at me and I have to stop it from hitting the floor.

"Hey! Be happy I am doing this for you!"

"Be happy I'm not spilling your secret," he snaps back. But his expression immediately softens in realizing his brashness. Sighing to himself, he runs a hand through his hair. "Do you know what this Friday is?"

I look over the schedule in my head before answering, "Does it have something to do with homecoming week?"

"Yes. It's the homecoming dance."

I laugh. "Like I care."

"You should."

"No, I shouldn't. I never go to the dances. It's a big waste of time if you ask me. I have better things to do."

"Like what, lazing on the couch and watching Beverly Hills 90210?" He jeers at me and it causes my chest to boil with anger.

"No!" '_Cheers reruns actually_.' "I have work to do! Lots and lots of work!"

"Well it's gonna have to wait because you're going to the dance with me."

I am taken back by this sentence. Immediately my anger evaporates and a state of shock envelops me. My eyes are wide and my mouth seems to be stuck in a permanent "O." The only part of me that moves is my heart, which thumps achingly against my ribcage.

He is analyzing me again, and I am ashamed that my face is so readable at the moment. I expect to see that signature smirk of his, but he keeps a serious demeanor, the corner of his cheek twitching as he grinds his jaw. "I'll take your silence as a yes," he finally says.

The words seem to break my spell. "I will not!"

His eyes grow livid and he strides over to my side and takes my wrist, pulling me up so that I am looking straight at his face. My cheeks are unbearably hot at the moment.

"Let go…"

"Say it."

"Say what?" I struggle to release myself from his grip, but such an attempt is fruitless.

"That you're going to the dance with me."

"No!"

"Say it!" His clutch tightens and I wince from the pain.

"Okay!"

"Okay what?" he says through gritted teeth.

"Okay, I'll go to the dance with you!"

He releases my wrist and that cocky smirk of his finally returns. "Good."

I slump back into my seat, panting from the sudden closeness we shared. My wrist is red and I rub at it, although I know that it won't help in stopping the formation of bruises.

"Let me see." Jackson kneels down in front of me, turning my wrist as he presses the marks gently. "Does it hurt?"

"I'm fine." I hate the unexplained giddiness exploding inside me. I jerk my arm away and look down at my knees. "Why?"

"I don't know. You just seem to be really good at pissing me off."

"No, not that." I gather the courage to look at him again. "Why me? There's lots of girls that you can ask. Why choose me?"

A hand drops to the floor as he contemplates the question. "I don't want to go to this dance anymore than you do. It's a social obligation and I'd rather not make the evening any worse by spending it with a bimbo hanging off my arm."

For some reason I am hurt by this statement. He only wants me to go with him because I'm safe. To the eyes of our peers, wouldn't we be the perfect couple? We both excel in everything we do and even our looks (although I hate to admit it) are compatible with one another. It is a rational choice and yet…

'_What were you hoping for, Lisa_?'

I manage to shift my frown into a weary smile. "I guess that makes sense."

He gets back up on his feet. "I'm glad we're on the same page. Now finish your work." He walks back to his seat and after finding his page in his book again, sits back down across from me. I return to the task at hand and work on translating sentences in Spanish. The janitor walks into the classroom and realizing we are occupying it once again, goes back out grumbling to himself. It is a typical night for the two of us, a night that I can't help but admit I will miss when it's gone.

* * *

A/N: So we see some of Jackson's aggressive side in this chapter. And if any boy does this to you, you should stay away from him! But anyway, next chapter involves getting Lisa ready for the dance, with Jackson playing the role of stylist. Sorry, a little guilty pleasure here. I just love makeovers:)


	6. Cinderella

A/N: Okay, I know I say this every time, but really, THANKS so much for the reviews! These ones especially made me so happy that I wanted to do an Irish jig hehe. Oh, I made some minor changes to chapter 3, because in such a pivotal moment, I had done very little describing. Not good! Anyway, I really like this chapter (pats 17 year-old self on the back) and I hope you guys enjoy this chapter too:D

* * *

**His & Her Circumstances**

_Chapter 6  
_

Friday evening has finally arrived and I lay in my bed practicing excuses in my head. I never bought a dress. I just couldn't. And so here I lay, never even bothering to change into my comfy clothes and watching my ceiling as "Paint It Black" blares through the stereo.

I tell myself that I'm not going because it would be giving in to Jackson, which of course I can never let him win so easily. But I would be lying to myself if that was the only reason for not going to the dance.

_I am afraid_.

All of a sudden, I can't bring myself to hate Jackson anymore. Instead, it's quite the opposite, and that scares me. If I were to go to this dance, who knows what I'll do. I realize that I'm not as in control of myself as I imagined myself to be. Just thinking of his arms around me as a slow song plays in the background immediately makes me feel lightheaded. And so, to make sure I don't take that extra step involuntarily (I can't even admit to myself what that extra step is), I will have to somehow release myself from Jackson's grip. I don't know exactly how yet, but refusing to go to the dance is a start.

The doorbell suddenly rings and my heart jumps out of my chest. I almost want to go under the covers to hide. But instead I freeze and wait for the dreaded call of my parents.

It is my father's voice that comes bellowing up the staircase. "Lisa! You've got a boy down here for you!"

My first response is to ignore him, but it soon occurs to me that my father is with Jackson, and such a meeting can never lead to anything good. I roll off my bed and rush down the stairs.

"Leave us be!" I order my dad is I push him into the kitchen.

"Now, now Lisa," he says as he stops in front of the fridge. "It is my duty as a father to ask him the twenty questions."

"It's nothing!" I say in a harsh whisper. "He's just dropping off some homework, that's all!"

"Then what's up with the suit?"

"He's going to the dance afterwards, I'm not!"

"But why aren't—"

"Dad!"

He finally surrenders. "Alright, alright. I'll be upstairs." He decides he needs a snack and takes a Twinkie out from the cupboard before finally retreating up the stairs.

I let out a sigh of relief and go back into the living room. Jackson had taken the initiative to let himself in and is seated at the couch. Once he spots me his facial features scrunch into a grimace.

"That can't be what you're wearing."

I place my hands on my hips. "Well I've got news for you, I'm not going."

He rises at this statement, and I can't help but gape at him as I get the full view of his suit. There is something irresistible about a man in a suit, I realize. Perhaps it's the way a suit fully takes advantage of a man's form, showcasing his strong shoulders and a lean waist. The black of the fabric also makes the blue in Jackson's eyes stand out more than ever before, and with the steel dress shirt underneath without the distraction of a tie, Jackson really does look sharp.

"Like what you see?"

Disgust becomes the most dominant feeling within me and I am finally able to breathe again. I let out a sarcastic laugh. "Don't flatter yourself!"

He grabs my hand and heads for the stairs, to which I protest by grabbing the banister.

"What do you think you're doing!"

"Getting you into appropriate clothes."

Who does he think he is, a king? He waltzes around my house as if he owns the place. "I don't have any fancy dresses!"

This shocks him. His hand goes limp and my hand is free. "Not even an Easter dress?"

I shake my head, although I do have a few old dresses in the back of my closet. He doesn't need to know that though.

He puts a finger to his chin as he contemplates this. "Well, I guess we have no choice then." He takes my hand again, this time heading for the door. "We're just gonna have to make a quick stop at Macy's."

Before I can respond appropriately we are out the door, and I am being shoved into the front seat of a silver Lexus. The only thing I can spurt out is a "You have a car?" '_And a nice one at that_.'

I see a flash of white teeth as he grins and my eyes follow him through the windshield as he walks around the hood of his car and hops into the front seat. "I will once I get my license."

"You don't have a license? How the hell are you driving, then? I can't be in the car with you, this is illegal!" I attempt to pull the handle to get out, but Jackson quickly presses the button that locks the doors. This only stops me for a second before I try pulling the lock. His response to this is to lean over and push me back with his forearm against my collarbone as his other hand works at buckling me in.

"Calm down, will you? I'm not going to get caught. And I know how to drive. I have a permit."

I don't want to try his patience any longer. I surrender and stare out the window.

He resituates himself in the driver's seat and I hear the snap of his seat buckle and the slam of the door. The engine starts and I watch the moving yard as he backs out into the street. "Don't worry about the money. I'll pay for the dress," he says.

"You better pay for it." I cross my arms and stare ahead. '_No way I'm wasting money on a dress I'll only wear once!_'

At the corner of my eye I can see Jackson turning to me, smiling. I hate it when he smiles like that. '_Stop it!_' It's better if he just smirks. It makes it easier for me to hate him. Suddenly it becomes unbearably stuffy in the car and so I decide to open the window. The breeze is heavenly. I stick out my head and let my auburn locks tickle my face as I watch a blend of colors whir by under an indigo blue sky.

Once we get to Macy's, I am ordered to lead the way to the junior dresses. Dresses of every color and style hang on the racks around me and I don't know where to begin. But it doesn't matter, for Jackson is already picking out dresses and laying them over his arm. He chooses four dresses and brings me into the dressing room.

"Put these on," he says as he hands me them. "Don't forget to let me see how they look on you. I'll be sitting on this bench."

I nod and go into the closest stall, hanging the dresses on one of the many hooks provided. As I flip through them, I am satisfied that they all are decent. I was half expecting Jackson to choose the skimpiest of dresses just so that he can get a good laugh. Instead, I find that I don't really dislike any of them. I grab the baby blue one and toss it on the bench as I take off my shirt and pants.

The dress has an underskirt of white tool, which crinkles at my stomach and makes me itch. I quickly pull it down and inspect the dress in the mirror. Usually I scoff at girlie girls. But now, as I turn in the mirror, I can find the appeal of wearing such frilly pieces. I feel like a princess. My brawny shoulders suddenly look delicate with the curve of the strapless dress, a large pink bow wrapped around my waist. I pick up the sides of my skirt and curtsy.

"You done yet?" says an impatient Jackson. "Come out already!"

I totally forgot he was here! All of the sudden my stomach twists in my worry of presenting myself to him. Why am I so antsy! I pat down my skirt and open the latch.

Jackson chuckles once I come out. This is not the reaction I was hoping for.

"Hey, you chose it!"

"God knows why," he replies. "The color doesn't suit you at all." He motions me away with his hand. "Next one!"

I grumble in discontent as I return to the stall. I don't know why I feel so disappointed. Maybe it's because his disapproval makes it seem like he's better than me? Yes, that must be it. I throw the baby blue dress aside and slip into the next one.

I find that I don't like this dress as much as the other one. Because it's constructed out of a silver satin, it certainly is more sophisticated, but I find the large off-the-shoulder straps distracting, and with the flared skirt, the dress is just too much. Nonetheless, I present myself to Jackson anyway.

His response is a slap on the knee as he bursts out into laughter. He doesn't need to say a word, I am already retreating, hoping that my face is not as red as it feels. I slam the door in my embarrassment, wishing more than ever there was an escape route. Is this some form of revenge for me turning him down? I swear he is torturing me on purpose!

To my utter relief, the next dress is rather nice. Actually, I love it. The entire dress is wrapped in violet chiffon, with a satin ribbon of darker shade at the waist to separate the sweetheart neck top from a skirt that falls just above my knees. I twirl, admiring the way the dress unfurls like the petals of a flower. If he really doesn't like this dress, then he is obviously toying with me. I give myself one more look over before finally going out.

I saw it. It was a quick window into his thoughts, but I saw it as clear as day. It was almost as if time slowed, with his lips parting ever so slightly, the pupils of his eyes shrinking as a deep azure flooded over his icy irises. But as soon as the air passes his lips the expression is swept away, leaving behind his usual unreadable face. He rises from the bench and circles around me, his hands clasped behind his back.

"This will do."

I smile, knowing that he likes it more than his words imply. I can't help but feel magnificent now. But the feeling is only temporary as he inspects my face.

"Now we just need a face to match that pretty dress."

My immediate reaction is to take a swipe at him, but he quickly grabs my forearm, his cocky grin sneaking its way across his lips.

"Come on, let's pay for the dress."

"You mean _you'll_ pay for the dress."

He laughs as his hand slips down to my wrist. He takes me into the stall, and I suddenly feel unsafe and attempt to shake away from his grip, but such a worry quickly subsides as he hands me my clothes and grabs the dresses off the floor. Thankfully my bra is buried between my skirt and blouse.

"Don't I need to change back?"

"No, we'll just have the cashier scan your tag." He tosses the dresses into the basket under the return rack and we exit the dressing room, making our way to the cash register, which is conveniently just outside the door. Jackson finally lets go of my wrist as he takes out his wallet.

He pulls at my tag. "Can you scan this?"

"Yeah sure." The girl stretches the barcode reader and with a beep my dress is ready to be paid for. "81.90," she says.

I tug Jackson's shirt and he leans in towards me. "It's too much," I say. "Why don't I just get something out of the clearance rack."

"I got this," he says, and before I can say more, I am stopped by a warning glare. He takes out his credit card and hands it to the cashier.

"Thank you for shopping with us!" she says as she hands him the receipt and a plastic bag for my clothes. His thanks is shown through a smile and we walk away. But it isn't in the direction towards the exit.

"Where are you going, the car is this way."

"We're not done yet," he answers as he tears the tag off my dress. Ahead of us is a maze of cosmetics booths and I immediately realize his intentions. He pulls me into the chair in front of the Lancôme table and the lady who was previously flipping through an Avon catalogue flits over to us with clear delight written on her face.

"How may I help you today?"

"She needs some eye shadow to match this dress."

"Well I have the perfect palette for her!" She bounces to the inner section of the booth and pulls out a box of eye shadow. "This will complement her dress and make her eyes stand out beautifully," she says once she returns.

Jackson takes the box and inspects it. "Can we see how it looks?"

"Of course, of course!" She claps her hands in excitement and grabs the sample, as well as a stick of eyeliner and some mascara. With a brush in her hand, she starts to apply the makeup on me. She begins by lining my eyes in black, and then snaps open the eye shadow set, starting with the lighter shades and then working the deep purple into the edge of my eye. She tops the entire look off with mascara. "How do you like it?" she asks as she hands me the mirror.

Are my eyes really that green? I pull the mirror closer to my face to make sure I'm not seeing things. But to my pleasant surprise the pretty girl staring back is indeed me, and I can't help but smile. I never felt so beautiful. I look at Jackson and to my delight he too is smiling.

"It looks good," he says to her. "What kind of shade of lipstick do you think works best with her eyes?"

She pulls out a pinkish peach shade and slides it along my lips. Taking a step back, she takes a second to marvel at her work before looking to Jackson for approval.

"I like what I see. But we'll just take the eye shadow."

Her smile doesn't falter, for she is pleased that she actually made a sale. Jackson hands her the box of eye shadow and she goes to the cash register to ring it up. Saying a genuine thank you, she hands Jackson the bag of makeup. After a hasty decision on the proper heels to buy at the shoe department, we are finally on our way to the dance.

"I feel like Cinderella," I think out loud. I really wish I hadn't said that and nervously watch the mannequins come closer into view.

There are a few moments of silence that passes between us. I am too embarrassed to look at him, and so I only listen to his footsteps to make sure he is still by my side. Finally he says, "Life ain't fairytales, Leese."

'_What kind of response is that_?' My feet stop and I turn to him. "I know it isn't! I just meant you're like my fairy godmother! You know, that old white-haired woman with a wand? You think I meant you were my Prince Charming? Hah! Keep dreaming!" I almost want to clasp my mouth shut with my hands. Instead, I stand my ground and do my best to keep a stern face.

Jackson's eyes, first wide in shock, quickly narrows as his jaw tightens, a thin hint of white showing between his lips. "Fairy godmother?" He comes closer, his figure looming over me. I can't help but back away. "You think I'm your _fairy godmother_?" I can no longer go back any further, for a rack of clothes blocks my way. I am in a sea of pink and white sweaters. Jackson has me where he wants me. His hands lock onto the metal bars of the rack and I am trapped between his arms. "Would a fairy godmother do this?" he growls. He leans closer until there is only a slither of air between our faces. I can feel his warm breath brush against my lips, soaked in mint from the double mint gum he chewed earlier.

"St—stop…"

He ignores me, and continues leaning in. I can no longer bear to look, and so I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping that my overworked heart won't cause me to faint. I can feel a slight brush against my lips, but the sensation quickly terminates, and I can no longer feel his body heat radiating against me. I gather the courage to open my eyes. What I find is a snickering Jackson, his arms crossed with the smuggest look I've ever seen scrawled across his face.

"You're so cute," he mocks.

I can almost hear the whistling of a tea kettle ring through my brain—the pitch getting higher and higher until I am boiling over, my fists clenched and my teeth grinding against another. I slam my foot into his shin, and he's jumping up and down with his hands clasping his knee.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" he yelps. A lady with a child passes by and gives him a warning look, and he whispers an apology to her.

Is it bad to be as satisfied as I am right now because of his pain? I smile in delight and walk to the exit. I don't get far before he is grabbing my shoulder and swinging me in front of him.

"I will give you that one," he tells me. He is still wincing from the pain. "But don't you dare try something like that again."

I almost want to do it once more to test his warning, but I decide he has suffered enough for one day. Not bothering to respond, I turn away and with him at my side, we go out the door, the stars winking back at us under a blackened sky.


End file.
